Page 6 of The Moonstone Pirate
But she did not really feel glad about it.
In fact, she felt bereft, which made no sense.
Why ever would she want that pirate’s kiss?
Chapter Two
Draco Waring, Earlof Woodley, tried to forget the beautiful butterfly, Imogen, who had shot fire through his veins earlier this evening. The attempt was in vain, for he could not get her out of his thoughts. As the night wore on and he was constantly approached by hopeful young ladies seeking his attention, he knew he was in deep trouble over the girl. He had yet to see what she looked like without her mask but imagined she would be spectacular, if her pouty pink lips and aquamarine eyes were any indication.
Not to mention that body of hers was straight out of a man’s wildest fantasy.
And she was a talented artist, no less.
Nor did she mind that Parrot had not left her side all evening.
“Ah, Imogen,” Draco muttered. Since he, as host, could not remain beside her as much as he wished, he had given his dog the command to guard her. He also discreetly watched her as often as possible, but it was not always easily managed while these marriage-minded peahens constantly fluttered around him, in addition to everything else going on.
He smiled upon noticing Imogen had gone in search of food and water for Parrot, who must have decided he was also a guest at the party and whined about being deprived.
Draco liked this sweetness about Imogen. She was kind and compassionate toward animals. More important, she was kindand compassionate when no one was looking, which meant this was her true nature. She was not trying to impress him or anyone else, just following the impulses of her generous heart.
Bollocks.
What a time to find himself interested in a woman.
In truth, wrong time. Wrong place.
He had to keep away from her until his mission was over. But how? He had foolishly claimed her for two dances, both of them waltzes. As the orchestra played the strains of the first waltz, he realized he was about to miss it.
Well, it was unintentional on his part; he’d been distracted by his host duties and a widow by the name of Lady Dowling, who feigned a twisted ankle to gain his attention. Unfortunately, he saw through the lady’s ruse too late. By the time he left her in the care of his butler, he was waylaid once again by the oafs who had earlier been ogling Imogen. They were still standing by the cliff walk and now making unwanted overtures to the maids on his staff.
The dance was already underway by the time he finished addressing these issues and returned to the ballroom. He could have apologized for his lateness and escorted Imogen onto the floor for what remained of it, but decided against the idea. He was in a foul temper and not fit company for this tender-hearted innocent.
But as he watched Imogen from his vantage point by the terrace doors, he began to feel quite bad about his decision. She had refused two or three gentlemen who asked for the privilege while she stood waiting for him.
Her aunt and uncle, who were beside her the entire time, did not look happy either.
Great.
Not an hour into the party and he had already offended the Marquess of Burness and his family.
Draco easily read Imogen’s lips as she told each approaching gentleman that the dance had already been claimed. He felt a knot in his heart, noticing her disappointment grow when he did not come forward. Even Parrot growled in his direction before settling atop her feet to comfort her when she went off to the side in dismay and sat alone while the dance was in progress.
The look of hurt in her eyes cut through him like a knife.
It would have been so much easier if she had sat there angry, but this was not Imogen. Apparently, there was not a single dark feeling in the girl.
She truly was a little butterfly.
As the evening progressed, one of those louts, that arse Lord Driscoll, who had been ogling her by the cliff walk earlier, approached Imogen. She had spent most of the party beside her aunt and uncle, but they had left her in Parrot’s company just moments ago and gone to talk to friends.
Driscoll must have been watching and eagerly awaiting his chance to pounce on her. Draco was not about to let that rogue anywhere near Imogen.
And blast Driscoll for wearing a pirate costume too. Was it mere coincidence?
Yes, it had to be. Not even Draco had known what he was supposed to wear until his cousin, Deandra, shoved a box containing the costume at him earlier today.
Draco reached Imogen’s side first. “I believe the supper dance is mine, Butterfly.”
